Chapter 1.

Dieter, Dieter, Wherefore art Thou Dieter?

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The townspeople amusedly glanced over at the young boy bouncing his soccer ball from one knee to another. Few noticed the short, sulky, sour-faced man who trailed behind the boy. He was dressed in a tacky, cringe-worthy suit, and his hair was stingily tied back with a red string. This small man was none other than Otto Heckel, (former) burglar and poor crook. The boy he was following was Dieter Fortner, originally an orphan before he was adopted by Nina Fortner, a young lawyer with great potential.

As he trailed behind Dieter inconspicuously, all Otto could see was the back of the young boy's plain orange shirt, surprisingly clean jeans (which were probably washed and ironed by Nina the day before), and scruffy, light ash brown hair. The young boy was paying no attention whatsoever to the ex-burglar, who was unofficially Dieter's "babysitter". Dieter appeared to be completely focused on keeping the ball off the ground. If there was anything Dieter could do if he was given a free day, he would choose to play soccer nonstop.

"HEY! Kid! When'ya gonna stop doin' ya' socca-ball tricks?" Otto snapped irritably in his nasal voice, glancing around the bustling town with his beady, ratlike eyes and shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

Ignoring the cantankerous misopedist, Dieter continued to practice one of the new tricks that he had seen a soccer player pull off on the television the other day.

"Show-off," Otto grumbled with a hint of bitterness, probably jealous that he had never been able to master juggling a soccer ball.

He was answered with the sound of the soccer ball smacking against Dieter's slightly red, rough knees, which were worn from about two to three years of persistent practicing. Otto impatiently let out a sharp sigh and waited for some form of acknowledgment. However, a few more seconds proved to be too much for his already limited amount of patience.

Shaking his head with an annoyed huff, Otto sauntered up to Dieter. Although it would be more accurate to describe Otto's movement as "hasty running", Otto preferred to think of himself as a classy individual, so "sauntered", in this case, would be more "appropriate."

"Oi, Kid. I'm talkin' to ya," he growled darkly, glowering at the young boy.

Suddenly, Otto let out a sharp yelp and failed his arms around violently. He had unknowingly stepped into a pothole in the middle of the otherwise well paved cobblestone road and was sent failing his arms around frantically, trying to regain his balance in vain.

Dieter stopped juggling his soccer ball and skillfully caught it midair to watch Otto. He snickered at the short man, who was currently wheezing for breath and bent over clutching his knees. He had barely managed to avoid falling smack dab on his face and possibly breaking his misproportioned, large nose.

"Oh, so now ya' notice me when I almos' git a heart attack?" barked Otto, receiving louder sniggers in return, much to his annoyance.

"Sadistic brat," Otto muttered under his breath, brushing a few strands of his graying hair out of his eyes, "Learn ta respect ya elda's."

Straightening his hunched back as well as he could with a grunt, Otto glared scornfully at Dieter, who was smiling at the him in a good-natured way (with a hint of mischievousness). It was only then, Otto realized, much to his dismay, that Dieter was now more than three inches taller than him.

"Tenma's gonna come back."

"Huh?" Otto uttered, his thin eyebrows arching almost past his forehead, confused why Dieter had suddenly brought up the doctor.

"Tenma's coming back," repeated Dieter, looking at Otto with his shining, bluish gray eyes.

"I hear'dya the first time," grunted Otto, rolling his eyes, "Whyda heck are ya talkin' about the Doc again?"

"Because Tenma's coming back!" repeated Dieter excitedly for the third time, his smile growing wider just by uttering the doctor's name.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, and he still needs'ta pay me," Otto grumbled resentfully (although the last time the doctor had paid Otto, his check contained more than enough money to last Otto a luxurious life for five years).

"You really like money, don't you?" Dieter commented offhandedly, tossing his soccer ball into the air again and bouncing it off his right knee as he walked down the street.

Otto scoffed and folded his arms, "'Course I do, ya'd be crazy not ta'."

"Sure," replied Dieter nonchalantly, thinking about his favorite soccer player and what Nina had packed for him for lunch. He continued to juggle the soccer ball.

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Otto clenched his eyes shut with an irritated growl and rubbed his temples furiously. The kid really knew how to get onto his nerves. Not only did Dieter casually brush Otto aside, but he also continued to juggle the ball, which made the most infuriating, irritating sounds. As if that wasn't enough to worsen Otto's already soured mood, someone roughly shouldered the him, sending him stumbling.

After staggering for a few seconds, Otto regained his balance and whipped his head around furiously, searching for the rascal who had bumped into him so impudently. Finally, after frantically looking around for the culprit, Otto was rewarded with the sight of the back of a copper blond young man dressed in a dark suit, wearing a condescending smirk, which was directed towards the former crook.

Boiling with rage, Otto stomped towards the man with his fist clenched and grabbed the man's silk, indigo tie.

"Wha'da 'ell was that fo'?" snarled Otto, yanking the man's tie towards him furiously.

"I'm so sorry sir, I must have forgotten to look down," the man apologized smoothly, failing to cover up a touch of insincerity in his voice.

"Why ya dam-"

"Oh, I wouldn't lose my temper if I were you. Things may get... a little messy," the well-dressed man whispered in Otto's ear, leaning back then subtly looking to the right, where two formidable men were inconspicuously discussing something under the green and white striped awning of a nearby cafe.

Although the men were still talking, Otto didn't fail to notice the hostile glances the men were sending him, daring him to make a move. Otto growled and tightened his grip on the man's tie, who was smiling patronizingly at the former crook, waiting for Otto to make up his mind. Finally with his right hand shaking with rage, Otto begrudgingly let go of the man's tie, seething with humiliation and rage.

"What a wise choice you have made, my friend," praised the man, giving Otto a Janus-faced smile in congratulation, "Luckily for you, you seem to have a good head on your shoulders."

Otto snorted and hastily turned away from the man.

"Oh yes, and one more thing," the man called after Otto, "Tell the doctor that... he has the boy."

Otto stopped dead in his tracks, stiffening considerably. The blood drained from his face, leaving him frozen and deathly pale.

"... Bloody 'ell... don't tell me da bast-" Otto whispered furiously, whipping his head around in panic and searching for the soccer-loving boy. Those were the longest seconds of Otto's life. His heart was pounding against his chest and his palms were growing sweatier and sweatier by the minute. Suddenly, a familiar sound caused Otto to halt his futile search.

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Otto immediately recognized the unsettlingly familiar soccer ball, which bounced a few times before slowly rolling then hitting Otto's tacky dress shoes. Otto's beady eyes, which were gazed over with panic, followed the path up the cobblestone road that the soccer ball had taken.

His throat went dry and he shook with fear at the sight.

A young man with golden blond hair was carrying Dieter, who was limp in his arms. Otto knew that face. He knew that face too well. It was the face that had plagued the front page of the newspaper about a year ago.

Murder Escapes from Hospitalization

That was the headline, and below it was a photo of an angelic man, who was smiling serenely. At first, Otto had scoffed at the man's appearance, wondering for the fifth time that week how on Earth that pretty-boy had murdered so many people and almost turned Doctor Tenma into a murderer. It was absurdly hilarious... until he scrutinized the black and white photo of the man. Although the man's lips were pulled up into a deceivingly sincere smile, his eyes spoke of something greater. Otto saw something that he couldn't (and didn't want to) understand. It was like peering into the eyes of a ravenous wolf... or perhaps something far more terrifying.

The young man rounded the corner and disappeared from view. The last thing Otto saw was a flash of golden hair.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naoki Urasawa's Monster nor Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.

A/N August 26, 2015

I need to take a break from writing my other fanfiction, since school is greatly affecting my ability to write stories that have "happy" and "romantic" themes. Stress and pressure have impelled me to write darker fanfiction.

I barely have any free time to write (because I'm a Junior "high schooler"), and when I do, I just can't get myself to continue writing my other fanfiction... This story is more of something that I will work on when I am in the mood or have the will to. I have a general storyline planned out, but I have not planned everything out in detail.

Hopefully this chapter was at least somewhat interesting, and maybe some of you will continue to read this.

Thank you for reading (and until the next chapter),

-ShootingStar103